


In Unity

by coffee666



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Childhood Trauma, Hive Mind, M/M, Past Abuse, Unrequited Crush, references to Tarsus IV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-14
Updated: 2016-09-14
Packaged: 2018-08-15 01:53:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8037586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coffee666/pseuds/coffee666
Summary: On a hive mind planet, the crew of the Enterprise take a special potion that combines their thoughts and memories into one mind. In this temporary state, they weave through and watch each others most intimate and shocking memories.





	In Unity

**Author's Note:**

> Take a shot when you spot the anime reference.

Jim’s never seen a Hive Mind before, and by the way Spock’s eyebrows hit the ceiling as the away team is approached, it’s safe to say he hasn’t either.

“Hello.” Their voices flow like music. “We have been awaiting your arrival, crew of Starship Enterprise.”

“Thank…you.” Jim says hesitantly, before remembering to bow. He’s not sure of which pair of eyes he’s supposed to be looking into.

The inhabitants of Belka are humanoid enough, but with startling differences. Their skin ranges from dark blue to dark purple, and they have coiling horns at their temples, not unlike a ram. They all wear long red robes, and

There’s about six of them here at the entrance to the temple where they beamed down, and Jim was just starting to think that maybe he was forgetting something important, when they speak to Spock.

“Commander Spock, it is so good to meet you. Quite an honor.” They all speak in unision once more, the sutble differences of their voices barely audible over its calming harmony.

Spock for once looks very out of place as the Belkans watch him, all with slight smiles on their faces. The rest of the away team looks at him too, unsure of why he didn’t tell them his arrival was a big deal.

“We grieve with thee emenseley over the loss of the Home World of Surak.” The Belkans bow their heads for a moment.

Jim feels that cold claw grip him like it always does when he thinks about Spock being part of an endangered species. His eyes meet Uhura’s for a second, the sadness in hers matching his own, before they look to Spock once more.

Understanding is in the Vulcan’s face as he goes ramrod straight and clasps his hands behind his back again. “You know of Surak?” he asks expectantly.

“Ah, yes.” The Belkans nod. “Surak saved us. His teachings showed us the ways of logic. The way to live logically is to live united. To live united is to become one. So we did.”

“I –I’m sorry…” Uhura spoke up nervously. The six amber pairs of eyes snapped to her, but there was no hostility. “We tried to learn all about you that we could before arriving, but your culture is very private…”

“No need to apologize.” They assured her. “We are very private, as bragging is not the Belkan way. We are willing to tell you, so that you may understand.” They all smiled at Spock. “Any ally of Vulcan is an ally of ours. Come, we will take you to the temple so that you may get ready for Uppa. We will explain all at Uppa.”

“The ceremonial dinner.” Uhura whispered at McCoy when she caught sight of his confused expression.

“Dinner, that’s why I came.” McCoy weaved through the crowd to walk next to Jim. “Can’t trust you anymore on missions not to check something before you eat it.”

Jim ignored McCoy’s usual complaining in favor of catching up to Spock. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Sulu pausing to examine the many flowers that lined the pathway to the temple. He pointed at one and whispered something excitedly to Chekov, who gasped and then laughed.

“So, you weren’t expecting the royal treatment, I’m guessing?” Jim elbowed Spock lightly in the ribs. “Did you know at all how much they like Vulcans? Or, this Surak guy, really?”

“This Surak guy…” Spock quotes Jim, and Jim grins. “Did many great things in his time. I knew many cultures admired his teachings, though I was unaware Belka was one of them. I was also unaware they adapted their own version of Surak’s ways.”

“It’s kinda creepy.” McCoy said from where he’d been eavesdropping a few paces back. “The way they all talk and all move at the same time.”

“They seem nice enough.” Jim shrugged. “They said they were waiting for us since this morning.”

“Yeah, for him.” McCoy nodded towards the back of Spock’s head. “What if they try and make us all part of their cult planet? I say we make a trade. Give them the Hobgoblin and we get to leave in one piece…or, preferably six individual pieces like we came.”

“That’s not funny!” Jim snapped, causing McCoy to look taken aback. Spock straightened even more, and the six heads of the Belkans turned to peer over their shoulders at the disturbance.

“I believe Dr. McCoy was only employing the human custom of…joking around?” Spock offered. His demeanor was cool, but Jim could read the subtle look that told him he’d over reacted.

“Right…” Jim’s palms were sweating, and he quickly rubbed them on his regulation pants before turning to face the front.

“Welcome!” The Belkans stopped at the entrance to the temple.

Chekov said something in astonished Russian as the six of them came to stand at the entrance, just behind the Belkans. The temple was made of red stone with a dome shaped ceiling. A large wooden door had old-fashioned iron knockers.

The doors opened and two more Belkans walked out in perfect unison. They approached the group with soft smiles.

“We shall take you where you can don the ceremonial wear.” They said.

They led the group inside the temple, the door creaking when it opened. The walls were stone and lined with murals depicting events in Belkan history. The light was too dim to make out much of what the stick-like drawings were depicting, but the end of the hallways is what made them all gasp.

The wall at the end of the hallways was well lit compared to the rest of the temple. The mural of Surak was taller than any of them, and took up most of the wall. It depicted him standing above hundreds of smaller etchings of Vulcans, his arms raised in a stance meant to cease all war.

Beneath it was a smaller mural, depicting the Belkans all ceasing war as well. All Belkans came to join hands, and the last panel showed them joining minds as well, symbolized by the swirling mass of starts spilling from the tops of their heads to form the clouds and galaxies above.

The awed silence was broken by the shuttering click and flash of a camera device. They all turned to see Chekov standing at the very back of the group holding his device up towards the mural. He then sheepishly cleared his throat and shoved the device in his pocket.

“Captain Kirk,” The group of the six original Belkans addressed him directly, and it would be creepy if it wasn’t for the soothing drawl of their combined voices. “We do not mean to insult you when we say we are very impressed by your achievements.”

“Oh, um…Thank you.” He bowed again.

“In Belka,” They started again. “We have no leader; therefore, we save the leader’s robes for those who come off-world. You take that position tonight.” The two other Belkans came forward holding a folded dark green robe and placed the bundle in his arms.

“I will take you to your changing room.” One of the Belkans that had given him the robes spoke up. It was strange to hear one talk individually. “Trust that each one of your crew will be given the appropriate robes that match their position. They will be in good hands.”

He casted one last hesitant look over his shoulder at Spock, before following the single Belkan down another long hallway.

“So, uh…” he starts, figuring this would be the only time he’d catch a Belkan alone. “What’s your name?”

“We are all Belka.” They replied with a smile.

“Oh.” Jim nodded. They didn’t seem offended so he tried for another question. “Are you…um…what’s your gender?”

“We are all capable of bearing children.” They replied again. “Two or more Belkans may combine genetic material to create another. At the child’s first sunset, its mind joins Belka.”

“Wow…” Jim blinked in surprised. If everyone’s mind was one, did that mean every baby thought and spoke like an adult too? The idea was kinda creepy.

“Here we are.” They placed their hand flush against a panel on the door, and the locks clicked open. “One changed, you will join us in the dining room for Uppa.”

“Right.” He nodded, before entering the room.

He used his foot to gently close the door behind him, wondering if the Belkan was going to wait for him to change or trust him to find the dining room on his own.

The changing room was small, and held only an old fashioned looking basin with a mirror and a pitcher of water. Jim placed the bundle of robes on the floor before approaching the basin. He poured some of the water in the bowl and splashed at his face as best he could, before drying it with a cloth that was folded in the cabinet underneath.

The robes turned out to be more like a cape. It was green woven cloth and lined with the same flowers Sulu had pointed out as they approached. He slung it over his shoulders and tied it at his neck. There was also what looked like a crown of flowers. He carefully perched it on his head before looking in the mirror again.

He looked like a kid playing dress up. He remembered what the Belkan said about each crew member getting a robe that matched their rank, and he wondered If any of them would look as ridiculous as he felt.

He opened the changing room door and was greeted by the smile of the same Belkan who’d walked him there. “You look like a true leader, Captain.” They said, before gesturing for him to follow them.

“Thanks…” He started to feel less weird and more like a king when he noticed the way the cape billowed out behind him, making the silhouette of his shadow against the wall of the hallway look like a superhero or something.

Jim was led back to the lobby by the mural of Surak. Everyone else was there and wearing similar robes, though with different flowers lining each cape and crown.

Sulu was twirling in his, probably going out of his mind at the fact that he was wearing such beautiful native flowers. McCoy was adjusting his crown with a pissed off look, and Chekov was watching him with a laugh.

Spock looked utterly unfazed at everyone’s appearance, and was most likely completely unaware at how fucking adorable he looked in a flower crown.

“Woah…” Jim stopped abruptly, a blush on his cheeks as Spock glanced his way. Those onyx eyes met his and he was wondering if Spock was thinking what he was thinking, when a polite touch of a Belkan’s hand on his elbow snapped him out of it.

“Captain,” All of the Belkans spoke in unison. “We are ready to proceed to the dining room.”

“Right, uh.” He stepped forward to tug his cape out from under his shoes to keep him from tripping. “Let’s go, then.”

The dining room had a long wooden table piled high with steaming food. The six members of the away team sat on one side, while the eight Belkans took the other.

The Belkans all clasped their hands in prayer. Uhura followed suit, and after shooting a glare down the table, so did everyone else. Jim sure was glad Uhura seemed to always know what to do regardless of what planet they were on.

“Blessed thoughts be to thy neighbor and thy self…” The Belkans whispered with bowed heads and closed eyes, and Jim could hear Uhura whispering along. “And praise be to the unity.”

“The unity…” Jim tacked on awkwardly, and there were a few sparse whispers as everyone on their side of the table followed suit.

“Now, everyone dig in…” The Belkans laughed.

The food turned out to be all vegetarian, something for which Jim could hear Spock hum his approval. McCoy was relieved too, as there was little to no chance that Jim would have a reaction to any of it.

“Commander, is the food to your liking?” The Belkans asked. It was clear that even though Jim was the one in the leader’s robes, Spock being a Vulcan made him the real one the Belkans were eager to please.

“It is most acceptable.” Spock nodded, before taking a bite of a steamed vegetable.

This seemed to please them greatly.

“Belka was in deep grieving when we learned of Vulcan’s fate.” The Belkans sighed. “We would have taken in any refugees who needed it.”

“That is a kind sentiment.” Spock said seriously. “I am sorry that I was not aware of Belka’s affiliation with Surak.”

“No apologies necessary, Commander.” They said, using a phrase Spock uttered something like ten times a day. “We did not reach out to the federation until very recently…when we heard about you. You see, Surak was a great being. His understand of logical helped not only Vulcan, but us as well. We learned the answer to stop all fighting was to understand one another…to become one…so we did. We were delighted to hear that a Vulcan was in Starfleet, and we were even more delighted to find out you were coming.”

“Captain, you okay?” Sulu hissed in Jim’s ear.

Jim jumped, realizing he’d been gripping his wooden fork almost to the point of it splintering. He’d been glaring across the table at the Belkans, unnerved by the way they kept praising Spock, as if he were some kind of answer to their weird Surak fetish. McCoy’s joke about Spock staying behind as gift to the Belkans made another spike a rage shoot through him.

“I’m fine.” He whispered back. “Just tired…”

“Captain, if you are growing restless, then may we suggest you all prepare for the resting in unison?” The Belkans looked at him expectantly. For some reason, Jim had a feeling they weren’t talking about just taking a nap together.

He glanced around Spock at Uhura for answers, but she just looked back with a mix of fear and uncertainty.

“You are unaware of resting in unison?” They all simultaneously tilted their heads.

“Is it like a nap?” Chekov asked quietly.

“Well, yes.” They laughed. “It is an act of great trust to rest in unison. You will be taken to the resting room where you will all take a temporary sedative that melds your minds in unity…”

“Wait,” Jim put down his fork. “Like a Vulcan mind meld?” He almost shivered when he remembered what the older Spock had done with him.

“The act of becoming a Hive Mind is not unlike a Vulcan mind meld.” They nodded. “Though only Belkan can combine into unity, we have a sedative that allows off-worlders to experience the same effects with one another temporarily.”

“What?” McCoy pushed his chair back from the table and there was a loud scrape of its wood against the floor. “We’re supposed to all become a Hive Mind? Why?”

“Your apprehension is understandable, Doctor.” They nodded. “But you should understand that it is a great opportunity. One that any other group would be envious of. By temporarily joining minds with your crew, you can begin to truly understand one another. Such an act would create a bond with you all that is stronger than even family…”

“What do you think, Spock?” Jim whispered to his First Officer. He instantly regretted it, when everyone else quieted down in anticipation for Spock’s answer. Apparently they all thought of him having the final say.

“We would be delighted to accept your offer to rest in unison.” Spock said with a polite nod.

“We would?” Jim blinked, before turning from Spock back to the Belkans. “I mean, of course we would. It is an honor, and who would we be not to honor your…honor?” He finished lamely.

“Nice.” McCoy grumbled.

They were led up a long spiral staircase after dinner. They all kept stopping to keep from tripping over their capes.

“Can we take these things off now?” McCoy whispered to Jim, who just shook his head, figuring it was best not to in case they accidently offended the Belkans.

“Are you kidding? I’m never taking this off!” Sulu whispered from behind them with a laugh.

“Do not feel so bad, Doctor.” Chekov piped up from beside Sulu. “I think you look quite becoming.”

“Um…thanks?” McCoy stopped in his tracks, causing several people to bump into one another.

“Here we are…” The two Belkans that lead them up the stairs now opened the doors to a room. They all stepped inside.

It was round, no doubt the same room under the domed roof. There were six large flat pillows on the floor, one for each of them.

“Please sit down…” The Belkans say.

Jim and McCoy exchange one last unsure glance as they all sit down on the pillows. Chekov drags his next to Sulu’s, and Jim tries to act casual as he sits down on the one next to Spock.

The Belkans enter the room and pull a large clay pot out from the corner. Jim watches as they boil water in it and mix in herb after herb, occasionally stopping to stir and mumble in Belkan. After a while, the aroma starts to make Jim sleepy. Chekov yawns loudly, and even Spock starts closing his eyes for longer than a blink.

“It is ready…now, one at a time, please.”

They all get in line and there’s a shuffle as Jim gets pushed to the front. He stumbles, and reaches up to adjust his crown with one hand, and reaches out for the tea cup the Belkan is offering him with the other.

McCoy opens his mouth to say that maybe he should check to see if it’s okay for Jim to drink it, but Jim downs it before he can. It’s scalding, and it burns off practically all his taste buds. He hands the cup back to them with tears in his eyes as he stumbles back to his pillow.

He watches as each of them in turn drink the mixture. The Belkan scrapes the bottom of the pot with the metal ladle to get the last of it for Chekov. As the last one, Chekov gets to take a moment to blow on the tea before drinking it.

“Ah…it tastes like meat!” He complains, earning laughs from everyone, and a sick look from Spock.

One Chekov is seated again, the Belkans stand and make their way out. Jim tries to say something, but his eyes droop and his head lolls to the side. There’s a thump as Spock lays flat on his back beside him.

Jim lays back against his pillow and listens to the Belkan’s last words before the door shuts behind them.

“Blessed thoughts be to thyself and thy neighbor…and praise be to the unity!”

~o0o~

_“That stuff tasted weird…”_

Chekov’s voice is inside all of their heads. Jim tries to exclaim in shock, but he finds he can’t move. His body is too heavy and his mind is too foggy to even find the way to open his eyes.

 _“Are…are we gonna die?”_ Sulu’s voice is uncertain.

 _“Negative. Though soon we shall all share a mind.”_ Spock’s voice was neutral. _“All of our thoughts will be one, and we will search through each other’s most intimate thoughts and memories.”_

 _“Why the fuck did I agree to this, again?!”_ McCoy sounded extra gruff, his voice bouncing around in their skulls.

 _“It might seem weird, but Kirk was right. It’s an honor…a huge honor. I’m so glad we’re getting to do this.”_ It takes Jim a minute to realize it’s Uhura who’s praising him.

 _“Well, I guess I’d rather have you guys seeing my fucked up memories than anyone else.”_ Jim decides. _“But…I think we need to have a pact. Nothing leaves this room.”_

_“Agreed.”_

_“Agreed.”_

_“Yeah.”_

_“Aye, Keptin.”_

_“Affirmative.”_

Those are their last individual thoughts before they’re one mind. The harmonious mix is only a little jumbled. They’re feeling confused, yet relaxed. The warm aroma of the tea is still heavy in the air, calming all anxieties.

The first memory is like a light at the end of a tunnel. It grows brighter and brighter until it’s what they are.

They are a young boy lying against hot red sand, an arm outstretched towards the sky. The stars are billions of lightyears away, he knows that, but he also knows that it is possible to reach them. Not now, but one day.

Something gruffly nudges them in the back, and they sit up with a star. The large fuzzy head of his beloved friend nuzzles his shoulder.

“I-Chaya, you have startled me.” Spock says, resting his hand on the animal’s head.

“Yes, I know mother is looking for me.” Spock turns away from the animal’s questioning gaze and hugs his knees to his chest. “I am choosing not to respond.”

The animal flops down next to him onto the sand. Spock doesn’t move to lay against him like usual. He doesn’t want I-Chaya to feel like he feels. No one should have to. He shouldn’t even be feeling it.

“If Father knew I was upset, he would only say it is illogical to feel that way…but he is wrong.” Spock stares ahead at what’s left of the sun over the horizon. “It is logical to feel inferior when everyone at school is so much better than me.”

“Better at what? Are you not aware?” Spock grumbles, feeling I-Chaya’s tail flick against his back. “Better at math, and science, and linguistics…even at physical education.”

“What makes them better? Is it not obvious?” Spock honestly sighed for the first time he can remember. “They are full Vulcan.”

“I am Vulcan?” Spock blinks in response to I-Chaya, the animal’s soft tail still thumping his back. “No. I am not. I am not human either. I have no place in this world.”

“Who told me?” Spock sighs again. “They did. They know. They can understand more than me, because they belong in this world. I do not.”

“Special? I do not want to be special…” he can feel anger, and that just makes him ashamed. He should be able to suppress that. The fact that he can’t just makes him angrier. “I want to be the same as everyone else!”

“If I was the same…I would not have Mother.” He says in realization, looking down at his brown robe where a few teardrops lay. He quickly wipes his face and stands up. “I-Chaya, we must go home.”

 _“If I was the same as everyone else, I would not have Mother.”_ He repeats it to himself over and over again in his head as he rides atop his pet’s furry back.

He sits up as they approach the house. His mother is in the yard calling for him. She locks eyes with him as I-Chaya stops and Spock slides off his pet’s back and lands with a thump on the ground.

“Spock, there you are!” She runs over, and Spock stands stiffly, allowing her to hug him. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you!”

“Illogical,” He says, his voice muffled in her hair. “If you had looked everywhere for me, you would have found me.”

She laughs, pulling back from the hug to look down at him with familiar warm brown eyes. “Where were you, then?” she asks, smoothing out his hair.

“I was in a period of reflection.” He says, repeating a phrase his father often says after he spends hours in his study.

“Reflection?” he laughs, turning to walk into the house with him in tow. “On what?”

“On how I am very glad you are my mother.”

“Oh, Spock…” she stops in her tracks for just a moment and looks at him, tears forming in her eyes. “I’m very glad you’re my son.”

“But Mother, would you not rather have a human son?” He hadn’t been aware of the thought until he voiced it.

“Of course not!” He’s afraid he’s offended her, until she laughs again. “A human boy wouldn’t have such cute ears.”

It’s gone much quicker than it came. It’s snuffed out like a dying sun. When they’re left alone in their mind, they’re one thought. They don’t have time to contemplate what they just saw before there’s another light at the end of the darkness. In a flash it envelopes them.

They’re McCoy now. They can tell because when he nervously licks his lips, there’s the unmistakable taste of bourbon.

The maternity ward is relatively low-key compared to the hustle and bustle of the rest of the hospital. A few nurses walk by and give him sympathetic looks. He’s the only one in the hall, but he’s by no means the only nervous new father hanging around.

He gives a nod to the nurses before turning towards the door. One last deep breath and he goes inside. Jocelyn is asleep, and he’s momentarily ashamed of how he’s glad he won’t have to talk to her right now.

“Would you like to hold her?” The nurse asks, taking the baby from the bundle on Jocelyn’s lap.

His mouth feels scorching dry, so he just nods. The nurse comes forwards and puts the baby in his shaking arms.

“I’ll give you a minute.” The nurse quietly lets herself out.

He can’t believe he was so nervous that he actually had a drink before holding his own baby. He peers down at her and he thinks he’s going to cry. No, he knows he’s going to. She looks up at him, a tiny pink thing that doesn’t really look like either of them right now.

“Hey…” he whispers, in part testing his voice, and in another part just unsure what to say. “I’m your dad.”

The baby just looks up at him in wonderment. He starts to tremble, glancing around for a seat. There’s one by the window, a few pink balloons tied to the back. He carefully sits down and holds her in his lap.

He doesn’t know what to say, so he doesn’t say anything. He just holds her and rocks her. After a while she goes to sleep, and he actually misses her.

“I’m gonna love you more than anything in the world…” he whispers, leaning down to kiss her head.

“Leonard…” Jocelyn’s sleepy voice cuts in. He glances up at her, and she actually smiles at him. “How is she?”

“She’s perfect.” He chuckles.

“Of course she is…” she replies.

They’re snapped ahead like warp speed. They’re still McCoy, gravel crunching under his feet and anger burning in his stomach as he heads towards the truck.

“Daddy!” Joanna grabs at his pant leg, but she just shakes her off. “Daddy, don’t go!”

“I gotta go, baby.” He says, not looking back at her. He doesn’t want to break. Not in front of her.

He pulls down the tailgate of the truck and swings his single suitcase into the bed. When he turns back, he looks straight over her head and back at the porch. Jocelyn just leans against the railing watching. There’s a cigarette dangling from her fingers, and she’s shooting daggers at him, as if he’s the one who wanted this.

“Listen, baby.” He tears his eyes from Jocelyn and gets down eye-level with Joanna. “I gotta go, and you can’t come with me…”

“But why? Why are you going? Don’t you wanna stay with me and Mommy?” She’s crying again, and it fucking rips a hole in his heart.

“Of course I wanna stay with you…but I can’t.” he reaches up to tuck her hair behind her ear. “Listen to me, baby. I’ll call you every day, I promise.”

“Promise?” she repeats with a sniffle.

“I swear.” He nods. “And I promise I’ll be back for Christmas and your birthday.” When he leans in to kiss her forehead, he stares over her head again at Jocelyn, as if daring her to challenge his promise.

“You’re going into space?” Joanna asks quietly.

He hasn’t even decided himself. Somehow she must have overheard him and her mother talking. Starfleet’s medical program was open for registration, but did he really wanna sit in a classroom full of kids half his age?

It’s far away though, and he doesn’t think private practice in Georgia is an option anymore. Not when Jocelyn’s claws are tearing into every aspect of his life, ripping the Earth right from under him in the divorce.

“Yeah, baby.” He smiles shakily.

“To the stars?” she smiles back with a slight giggle, and it’s beautiful.

“Yeah, baby…” he nods again, a lump in his throat mutes the rest.

Jocelyn comes down from the porch and holds their daughters hand as McCoy gets into the truck. He prays to whoever that it still runs when he turns the key. He watches Joanna wave to him in the rearview mirror as she grows smaller and smaller.

The rattle of the dirt road and motor fill his head. He can’t even hear himself crying.

“To the stars…” His whispers, glancing from the road to the first stars of twilight in the sky. “To the stars…”

It fades and they’re quiet now. Alone in their head…a single mind. Their only thoughts are pain at the memory. Their daughter torn away from them, and they were the one forced to do it…to leave. They briefly wonder how she is now, and then McCoy’s component of their mind remembers.

Joanna is twelve now. She’s got an interest in medical science too, something for which he’s both proud and scared. She doesn’t like space, though. She doesn’t understand how her father goes somewhere so cold and so empty for so long.

He’d laughed when she said that to him the last time he saw her. He doesn’t understand either, but the next memory hits like a ton of bricks and really reminds him. It’s all about the patients, after all.

Physical pain is what they feel when the next memory hits. Their hands are braced on parallel bars on either side of them. All their weight is on their good leg. The toes of their injured foot barely touch the floor.

“Come on, kid.” They look up to see Dr. McCoy standing at the end of the railings. “It’s never gonna get better if you don’t walk on it.”

“Aye…” Chekov sighs. “But it hurts…”

“It’s just a sprain, and you’re lucky it’s not that bad.” He crosses his arms. “Just pace yourself, and walk this way.”

Chekov sighs again. The gym was supposed to be empty as he worked to strengthen his ankle, but apparently word got around that he was getting better. He looks to the far wall, where Hikaru, Nyota, and even the captain are watching him with encouraging smiles.

He places his hurt foot down and steps forward. It hurts. He limps onto his good legs and looks up at McCoy. He’s watching with a cocked eyebrow, and Chekov tries to only focus on the person in front of him and not at the pain.

A few more steps and he’s getting better. He can’t stay on his hurt leg for longer than a second, but bracing himself on the parallel bars helps. When he’s halfway across the bars, he can hear encouraging gasps from everyone on the sidelines.

He stops to look over at them. Hikaru gives him a thumbs up, and the captain shouts something that makes Nyota elbow him in the side.

“Hey, don’t look at them, look at me.” McCoy’s voice is gruffer than Chekov had grown accustom to in his time in sick bay.

He snaps his attention back to the doctor. He can tell he’s worried, and only masking it with annoyance. Worried that Chekov is worse off than he originally thought…worried that he did something wrong and he won’t get better.

But no, despite Chekov’s wining, it really does feel much better.

He knows in a few more feet and he’ll reach the end. One successful walk means the world to both of them. It means he’s going to get better, and it means McCoy did his job.

He takes a deep breath and starts walking again. With each step he gets faster. He remembers McCoy’s words, and he’s grateful for the excuse to lock eyes with him as he gets closer. The past few days in sick bay play over in his head. The way McCoy’s calluses hands would press against his face as he took his temperature. The way he’d catch McCoy’s voice soften as he promised the patients they’d be alright.

Chekov’s hands leave the bars as he reaches the end. Both feet firmly hit the floor and he feels fine for just a moment. The pain is still there, and he topples forward. McCoy reaches out, wrapping his strong warm arms around him and keeping him upright.

“Hey, you did it!” McCoy laughs. “Looks like you’ll be back on your feet in no time.”

He’s drowning out the congratulatory voices of Hikaru and the others, and he just savors the feeling of being in the doctor’s arms. A second later, McCoy steadies him on his feet and steps back. The loss of the heat from the other’s body is sad, but Chekov still feels invigorated.

“How do you feel?” McCoy’s voice is the only one he can focus on.

“I…” His heart is pounding and he just hopes the redness in his cheeks can pass for exertion. “It does not hurt so bad anymore.”

“Good…” When McCoy reaches over and tousles his hair, he can’t help the giggle that escapes him.

When that memory is gone, there’s an awkward silence in their mind. They are one, so what everyone may be feeling individually about what they just saw is drowned out by the most powerful influence –Chekov’s embarrassment.

They all feel it as one. The heat flooding all of them to their toes. They briefly hope that maybe everyone will forget everything they’re seeing once they wake up. If not, at least they have a pact not to spread any of this around.

The cold hits them like a stark contrast. They’re still Chekov, though younger now. The snow on the ground is packed up to his shins, and sticking to his boots.

The ear flaps of his hat don’t drown out the words of his mother behind him. It’s rapid Russian, but they’re all Pavel now, and they understand. Even if they couldn’t, a mother’s tone is universal.

“What will you get there that is so special?!” She asks from the house behind them. “America is too tough for you! They will chew you up and spit you out!”

“They understand me!” Chekov snaps back, not pausing in his walk. It will take two hours to reach the shuttle station, and he’s not going to waste a second. Pausing even for a moment can lead to a hindrance in the snowfall that leads to him missing the shuttle. He can’t afford to stop.

Let his mother follow him in just a thin coat over her nightgown. Let her freeze to death. wouldn’t that be ironic? Half the reason he’s going is for her. With him gone, that’s one less mouth to feed. That’s an extra log on the fire, or an extra bit of money for her to have a new coat for once.

“You think that!? Pasha, you are crazy! What makes you a genius in Russia makes you average in America! You cannot play with star charts in American college! They laugh in your face! They kick you out for even trying! They see your baby face and they send you home!”

He knows she’s hitting him where it hurts just to get him to stay. But he can’t stay. He can’t stay for another winter and watch someone else die. Didn’t she understand how great this opportunity was? When the recruiter came to his shabby school building and watched him do calculations in his head that took the teacher the whole board to do…when the recruiter smiled at him and called him Starfleet material…that was it. He knew it was his destiny, and she wasn’t going to stop him.

“Pasha!” His mother’s voice is farther back now, having stopped in her tracks where Pavel just kept going. “If you leave…if you leave then you can never come back!”

It’s like she shot him in the back with an arrow. He falters a bit, but doesn’t stop. He doesn’t cry. He can’t risk the tears freezing in his eyes. He just keeps going. She shouts something else but the wind is too loud and he’s too far ahead. He doesn’t care what it was she said. He just keeps going.

When their mind is empty, there’s a collective feeling of relief. The cold of the Russian winter combined with the bitter words of a mother make the darkness of their shared mind so much warmer in comparison. They’re still shivering though, just a tad. And they’re all Pavel, so they all know now what he knows. It’s true what she said, that he could never go back. And he never did.

The next memory is a lot like the first. They’re a young boy with an arm out stretched to the stars. The roof of the barn is uncomfortable, but it’s a great place to hide.

He jumps when there’s a pattering. He turns to see a squirrel on the roof, watching him. He breathes out a sigh of relief, glad it’s not Frank.

“Jim!” There’s the banging of the screen door in the distance, and his heart jumps into his throat once more.

“Don’t move.” Jim hisses in a whisper to the squirrel. It watches him a moment longer, before scurrying across the roof and leaping into the branches of an adjacent tree.

“Where the hell are you, boy!?” Frank calls across the yard.

Jim draws his knees up to his chest and squeezes his eyes shut. If he could have anything right now, he’d want to be invisible. He can’t deal with this right now, Frank’s questions and rough hands. He just wants to be alone for once.

“You better show your ass, if you wanna eat this weekend!” Frank’s voice grows closer, and Jim’s whole body shakes.

Jim knows if he gets down now, it’ll betray his best hiding spot. But he can’t risk it. He knows Frank would probably never let him starve, but the most primal part of his being is still afraid. It’s the same primal being that allowed him to almost reluctantly survive to come back from Tarsus IV.

He scoots to the edge of the barn roof and drops down to the ground behind the barn. His tiny body is still shaking with every beat of his heart as he walks around to the front.

“…What?” he keeps his eyes down, not meeting Frank’s gaze even as the man snatches his arm and yanks him forwards.

“Don’t say what to me, boy!” he snaps, his fingers digging in bruises into Jim’s flesh. “And you come when I’m calling for you!”

Jim doesn’t say anything. He can’t. There’s a lump in his throat, and he knows if he tries, he’ll just cry. He tries to pull his arm back, but Frank’s grip just tightens.

“Say yes sir!”

“Yes…Sir…” It comes out in a choked whisper. He keeps his head down so Frank doesn’t see the tears.

“You’re gonna cry now? You’re such a fucking baby! Why the fuck didn’t they kill you along with my dumbass sister!”

He doesn’t know, but he asks himself the same thing every single night. The pain of living hurt so bad. The say you’re only as old as you feel, so in that case, he’s not thirteen…he’s a hundred.

“You wanna eat tonight?” Frank shakes him by the arm when he doesn’t immediately answer. “Huh?”

“Yes…” he sniffles.

“Then get inside! Your momma’s gonna be home tonight, and she wants to see you.”

His breath catches in his throat. His mother? She’s coming home? The elation is the most powerful part of the memory. He yanks his arm from Frank’s grip and runs towards the house.

It’s not that he really cares about seeing his mother, it’s just that Frank doesn’t hurt him when she’s home. There’s still pain, though. It comes when Winona looks at him like she’s staring right through him.  She looks at him like he’s a ghost…the ghost of George Kirk.

That weekend is painful. He’s allowed to eat as much as he wants in his mother’s presence. She piles more vegetables on his plate, but doesn’t really speak to him.

Frank passes out early, so Jim gets to be alone with her. But she isn’t alone with him. There’s always the ghost of George Kirk between them. It moves in synchronization with their bodies, always reaching out from his hand to hers.

Sometimes it’s loud, shaking the house and rattling the windows as it thunders up and down the stairs. Sometimes it’s quiet, sitting by his mother’s bed and holding her hands as she cries over the memory of him.

It’s still there when Sam leaves. It’s still there when Winona leaves, and when Frank leaves too. Jim stays in the house year after year, with only the ghost for company. When he finally packs up and leaves for Starfleet, the ghost comes with him. It’s always there, always something he has to live up to in the eyes of everyone who’s ever known of George Kirk.

Their mind is clear long enough for them to sob. The collective voice that is them is sobbing. They didn’t know. They didn’t know about Frank or Tarsus, but the portion that is Jim, it doesn’t care. It begs them to stop. Begs them not to pity him. He can’t take the pity. He doesn’t need their pity. The anger carries over to the next memory.

Jim sees red. The red sea of the cadets all around, and the red of the anger that burns within. Yes, he was a cheater, but that didn’t matter. Don’t they understand the cheat itself is a solution? Isn’t finding a solution what being captain is all about?

“I think I have a right to face my accuser directly?” His voice is cool but sharp, clipping at everyone’s ears.

He stands. He’s sleek and tall and dark and…handsome. His eyes are dark and he looks at Jim with daggers. Jim stares back just the same.

The Vulcan’s voice is cool as well. It’s even and emotionless, until it isn’t. Then it’s smug and superior. The arch of his brows is impossible higher when he says it, a slight tug in his smile that Jim decides he hates.

“You of all people should know…a captain cannot cheat death.”

And Jim is shocked to know that Spock sees it too; the ghost of his father that is always over his shoulder. Jim remembers the rest of that day in perfect clarity, but none more so than the maybe ironic next statement he remembers thinking. He decides right then and there that he hates Spock.

There’s no gap for reflection between this memory and the next. It’s just a flash. They are still Jim Kirk, though now with blood soaking his gold shirt.

The phaser blast is still ringing in his ears, but he’s not left for dead. The warmest arms in the worlds are holding him, carrying him.

“Captain, try to stay conscious.” Spock says, not breathing heavy despite the fact that he’s running at full speed.

“Spock…” he tries to ask what happened. It hurts so bad, and he can’t understand how he actually got hit; not when he’s so light on his feet. Did his impulsiveness finally catch up with him?

His arms are around Spock’s neck and he has no recollection of having put them there. With his body pressed against Spock’s side, he can feel the Vulcan’s heartbeat. He tells himself to just focus on that. As long as he can feel it, it means they’re both still alive. That’s all he can hope for now.

“Captain, we will reach the ship in approximately two minutes. Doctor McCoy can help you.”

“You’ll stay with me?” It comes out so quiet that he’s afraid Spock hadn’t heard him.

“Of course, Captain.” Spock actually looks down at him now. There’s so much warmth in those onyx eyes that it tastes Jim’s breath away.

He squeezes his eyes shut and presses his face into Spock. The pain is so much, so he just breathes. Spock’s scent in and out, all around him. It is his life force now. He would die if Spock ever left him.

“Spock, let him go.” McCoy’s voice cuts in through the cloud of pain in Jim’s body.

He’s being pulled down onto a stretcher by med staff, but his hand is still clasped firmly between Spock’s.

“The captain insisted I stay with him…” Spock said, his voice wavering in the slightest way that only Jim could hear.

“You can’t –“ McCoy started before going softer, apparently he heard the wavering in Spock’s voice too. “Just let him go, Spock. I’ll take care of him, I promise.”

The fact that Jim trusts McCoy with his life is the only reason he lets his hand slip out from between Spock’s, but not before intertwining their fingers for just a split second.

When their mind goes dark they wonder if they’ve died. Obviously not, as that was only a memory, and the captain was here now in their mind. He was their mind. They all were.

The crash shakes them hard. They realize who they are instantly as they fall to their knees on the shuttle and look down at their dark hands and well-manicured nails.

“Mom!” Nyota stands despite the shuttle’s shaking. She turns to her parents and gasps.

Her mother is on the floor of the shuttle and her father is slumped in his seat, his eyes closed. She runs to her mother, grabbing her shoulders and pushing her in a sitting position with her back to the seat.

“Mom!” Nyota shakes her gently, her voice wavering.

“Nyota!” A voice calls from the communication panel on the front of the shuttle.

She stands and rushes towards it. She realizes before she reaches it that it’s her uncle. He’d been outside the shuttle investigating a malfunction when the explosion hit. She doesn’t dare look out the window for him now.

“Nyota!” he says when she reaches it. “You have got to get out of there! Get your parents into the escape pod before the shuttle hits the atmosphere down here!”

“H-here?” her hands fly to her eyes, tears already falling. “Where are you, Raheem?”

“Go, Nyota.” He says firmly. “The pod is in the rear, and you must take them there! I will stay online.”

She nods, her head foggy and her heart beating so fast that she’s afraid it’s going to break. She goes to her mother, wrapping her arms around her mother’s middle and tugs her towards the back.

Her shoulder bumps the pods entrance and she let’s go on her mother with one hand to pry at the opening.

“Open the hatch, Nyota.” Radeem says, as if she’s not already trying.

“I – Ah.” She pulls again, and it opens.

She grabs her mother again and pulls her inside. Her mother’s high-heeled shoe temporarily snags on the grated floor. One her mother is fastened inside, Nyota climbed back over her mother and goes towards her father.

She undoes his seat fastening and drags him towards the back. He’s so heavy that she finds herself falling backwards.

“Hurry, you are almost out of time.” Her uncle’s voice fills the shuttle.

“I…can’t…” she whispered, tears pooling in her eyes were she lays under the unconscious body of her father.

“You must! You can do it, Nyota! Go, now!”

His voice is her life-line as she crawls out from under her father. She grabs him again, pulling with all her might. His body lands against her again, this time pinning both of them to the inside of the pod. The door seals itself shut and she struggles to reach out again before they detach.

“Uncle! Where are you!?” She asks desperately.

“I am gone…” his voice is wavering just a tad. When he speaks again it is calmer. “The explosion knocked me too far out. There is no hope, not when your shuttle is still in the path of the meteorites. You must detach.”

“Radeem…” She’s sobbing when she pushes in the sequence. It’s a surprisingly fluid motion when the escape pod detaches from the shuttle. She watches from the window as the shuttle grows smaller and smaller in the distance. “Uncle Radeem…”

“Nyota…I am so proud of you. You are a brave girl…you are saving your mother and father’s life.” His voice in the comm of the escape pod is full of static.

“But uncle…you…” she sobs.

“I love you….”

She screams as she watches the shuttle explode in the distance. She knows Radeem is too far gone, lost in the atmosphere below, but it scares her just the same. The crackle of static is the only thing she hears as she cries and cries, the pod ever drifting towards Earth.

There’s a solemn silence in their mind when the memory is over. There’s no pity for what they saw, only a mourning, as if it was everyone’s uncle who was lost, and in a way, it was. They are still all one mind going strong even as the next memory envelopes them.

They’re Nyota still, as she makes her way through the campus. Gaila is beside her, talking her ear off as Nyota tries to find the right building.

“He says he’s gonna be captain in three years!” Gaila says. “Can you believe it?”

“Kirk’s crazy…” Nyota rolls her eyes as recalls the annoying cadet she’d first met in Iowa.

“You don’t think he’ll do it? You know who his father is, don’t you?” Gaila says it like a whisper, her eyes wide.

“So?” She glances from the schedule on her padd to the plaque outside the nearest building and heads inside when she sees it’s the right one. “That doesn’t mean anything. Kirk’s way in over his head.”

“You should see his test scores though...” Gaila stops before Nyota’s assigned classroom. “He tested out of stuff that I’m still stuck in!”

“Well, ask for his help then.” Nyota snaps. When Gaila blinks in surprise, Nyota’s voice softens. “I’m sorry, it’s just I’m really stressed about this class…”

“Don’t be. You’re probably way smarter than even the teacher!”

Gaila’s words play over and over again in her head as she enters the classroom. This is it, xenolinguistics. She heads down the aisle and takes a look at the other students as she approaches the front row. Half of them are falling asleep; those are the freshman unaccustomed with such an early morning class.

Nyota takes a seat in the very front row. She takes out her padd and scrolls to the notes she’d taken last night from the readings she did.

“Good morning.” The doors open and the teacher enters. If he notices everyone’s lack of response, he doesn’t say anything. He just makes his way down the aisle, his black uniform contrasting greatly with his pale Vulcan skin.

“I am Professor Spock.” Once at the front, he picks up the stylus and starts writing on the board. Nyota glances around the room and sees everyone is sitting up, and attempting to take notes. But it’s like no one notices how breath-takingly handsome the teacher is.

“I trust you all completed the reading prior to class.” He puts down the stylus and turns to face the class.

There’s sparse mumbles of “Yes sir” punctuated by loud yawns. As if to make a show, Nyota straightens up, her legs crossed and her smile bright.

“Did anyone notice the error on page nine?” He raises an eyebrow and Nyota actually feels her heartbeat in her throat. She glances as everyone around her and raises her hand high when no one else does.

“Yes, Professor. The Romulan verb on page nine is incorrectly conjugated.”

He raises both eyebrows in surprise, before resuming his blank expression. It’s enough for her face to go red and her smile to widen across her face.

“Very good, Cadet…” he quirks an eyebrow again and she almost dies.

“Uhura.” She says with a nod. “Nyota Uhura.”

“Well, Cadet Uhura, perhaps you can come up to the board and correctly conjugate the verb?”

“I’d be _delighted_ …” she slips out from her seat and keeps her eyes locked on his as she approaches the front. The closer she gets, she swears on her life that he blushes a deeper green.

 _“Oh yes._ ” She thinks to herself. _“This is going to be a very fun semester.”_

It fades quietly, the sound of Nyota’s shoes clicking on the classroom floor ringing in their ears. It’s quiet save for their collective amusement at Spock’s expense. 

When they find themselves again, there’s absolutely no question who they are this time. Sulu is crouched over a potted plant. He’s turning the leaves over and over in his hands, examining the texture. There’s pollen on the fingers of the gloves he’s wearing, and he tries to keep from sneezing.

“Hikaru, are you coming?” Chekov asks from the doorway.

“Yeah, just checking how this one’s doing.” He steps back from the plant and tugs off the gloves. “I might replant it here.”

“On Earth? Will it work?” Chekov comes closer to the window sill where Sulu has the potted plant perched.

“We’ll find out.” He smirks. He actually can’t way to try it out and he’s pretty sure it will work. He’s done so much research in comparing the soil of the Earth with that of the planet he took the plant from. He can’t way to see if it actually takes.

He picks up the pot with both hands and heads towards the door of the hotel room. They’ll only be on shore leave until tomorrow night, and he doesn’t wanna waste a second.

“You’re going now?” Chekov asks, following him out of their room and down the hallway. “I was hoping we could get something to eat.”

“Gotta get out there before it gets too hot.” He says, attempting to watch where he’s going over the leaves of the plant. “Why don’t you go eat and I’ll catch up with you later? I think I heard Dr. McCoy say he was getting something to eat across the street?”

“Why are you telling me this!?” Chekov stops in his tracks, and Sulu doesn’t have to look back at him to tell he’s blushing.

Sulu leaves the hotel and starts out on his hike. He knows he’s gotta find a place where the plant can grow undisturbed, but it can also be enjoyed by someone coming across it.

Sweat beads his forehead as the sun gets higher and higher above the San Francisco sky. When he finds a spot by a lake, and the hum of the city is distant, he knows it’s perfect.

He sets the plant down and reaches for the trowel hooked to his belt loop. The Earth is soft and moist, and it’s an amazing aroma as his digs, abandoning the trowel halfway through in favor of sticking his hands in the nice soft dirt.

“What sort of plant is that?” A voice startles him.

Sulu pulls his hands out of the dirt and looks up to see a man about his age, looking down at him. The place he’s standing obscures the sun from Sulu’s eyes. The man smiles at him and Sulu grins back.

“Nothing from around here.” He wipes at his forehead with the back of his hand. “It’s off planet, I mean.”

“How’d you get it?” The man sits down next to him.

“From working in Starfleet.”

“So you’re on the Enterprise? I heard they were stopped for repairs…” The man reaches for his bag and pulls out a bottle of water. “Want some? I’ve got trail mix too…hold on.” He digs around for a minute before pulling it out.

“Thanks…” he wipes the dirt off his hands onto his pants and takes the bottle. “I’m Hikaru.”

“Ben.” The man introduces himself with another smile that makes Sulu’s stomach flutter like he’s a kid again. “So, if this plant came from another planet will it really be able to grow here?”

“That’s the thing…” Sulu sets down the water bottle and starts digging again. “I mean, all my research says it should…but then again, you just never know…”

Ben helps him pull the plant out of the pot and put it in the hole. Their hands brush together as they smooth out the soil, but neither of them seem to mind.

“The other thing…” Sulu sighs. “Is that I won’t be able to come back and check on it until next shore leave, so I’ll just have to trust she’s doing alright.”

“She? It’s a she?” Ben smirks.

“Oh, well, I mean…This plant doesn’t actually have a gender, but I guess I got attached to her when she was with me on the ship.” He laughs, feeling surprisingly secure and not at all like the huge nerd he knows he is.

“What’s her name?”

“…Karen.” He’s nervous again, but not for long. When Ben laughs it’s good natured, not like the way everyone else does when he’s droned on too long about Karen’s progress.

“Hmm…” Ben glances over at him nervously. “You know what? What if I watched Karen for you?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, what if I came out here and watched how she’s doing for you? I could email you updates and pictures and stuff?”

“That won’t be too much trouble?”

“Nah, I live right over there.” He points to one of the houses across the lake. “It’ll be cool, and it’ll give me a reason to take a walk every day.”

A moment later, their collective mind is pulled away. When they come to, they’re still Sulu. This time he’s in a white tux and sipping champagne. There’s a ring on his finger that matches the one on Ben’s.

He glances up and looks around the reception hall. The bundles of white roses were his idea, but the strings of white fairly lights were Ben’s. He still can’t believe how lucky he was to find someone like Ben.

“Hikaru, save me.” Ben makes his way over and clings to his arm. “Your cousin won’t stop trying to give me recipes.”

Sulu glances over his new husband’s shoulder at his cousin. She’s scanning the crowd, and when she spots where Ben went, she makes her way over.

“I’ll get someone to distract her.” He promises, slipping his arm out of Ben’s grasp and heading towards the nearest person.

Spock is nearby, sipping at champagne with fascination. Sulu reaches out and claps him on the shoulder. “Hey, Spock.” He steers the Vulcan towards his cousin. “This is Kimiko, and she’s really into astro-physics…why don’t you tell her what you were telling me the other day on the bridge?”

 Spock approaches her and launches into a long-winded spiel. The look on Kimiko’s face is enough to make him laugh as he goes back over to Ben.

“Thank you.” Ben slips his hand into Sulu’s. “I just couldn’t take another second of her trying to tell me how to make apple pie with no apples…”

Sulu scans the reception room now, taking in the sight of people he loves. Chekov is by the bar, babbling in his slurred accent to McCoy about how vodka was invented in Russia.

He spots Nyota dancing with Scotty and makes a mental note to check up on that lovely bit of gossip, before something else catches his eye. Captain Kirk is watching Kimiko and Spock from across the room. His eyes are narrowed in what Sulu swears to god is jealously. It’s been three and a half years…why the hell doesn’t one of them make a move already?

The beautiful reception fades out as they go back into the dark of their shared mind. Their mind is whispering quietly to itself…is it over?

The darkness is punctuated by the pulsing of their synchronized heartbeats in their ears. This time seems to last longer than the others, so when there’s finally a light at the end of the blackness, they think they’re waking up. But one last memory fades in. They can tell it’s very recent.

They’re Spock, sitting cross legged on the floor in front of a chess board. Jim is on the other side, staring intently down at the pieces. Spock reaches for his green tea and takes a long sip before speaking.

“It is your move, Captain.”

“I _know._ ” Jim replies, leaning around to look at the board from a side angle. “I’m thinking.”

The game started out as casual as they always do. They chat about work or about shared interests, only buckling down and taking the game seriously when one of them starts to look like they’re going to win.

It’s a particularly high stakes game for Spock. If he wins, it’ll be the tenth game in a row he’s won against Jim, a feat he’s yet to accomplish in the three and a half years they’ve known each other. Despite this, he’s acting like his usual unaffected self.

 Jim nods to himself before moving a piece. When he sits back, he fixates Spock with a smirk. He thinks he’s got it. There’s no way Spock can beat him.

Spock pretends to look at the board, but really he watches Jim’s hand. It’s just lying there, his fingers drumming against the carpeted floor. He watches it for a moment, before reaching over and placing his hand on top of Jim’s.

They’ve grabbed hands before in the heat of the moment, so Spock calculates an eighty percent chance that it can pass as a casual act of friendship. He’s risking even more by tentatively lowering his shields just a bit. He can’t help it. He just wants to know how Jim feels about it all. He knows it is very wrong…but it does not feel wrong. Therefore, logically, it is right.

Jim blushes just a bit, and Spock loves it. He can feel his heart slamming in his side when pure want and need pulses through the telepathic connection. Spock’s finger tips carefully trace back and forth across Jim’s knuckles, what he hopes is seen as just a fleeting motion and not for what it truly is –stolen kisses.

The way pure love surges up his arm through their shared contact actually makes Spock gasp out loud. When Jim’s eyes flick up to his, there’s no need for telepathy to see the lust. It’s the same look that’s grown gradually hotter over the past three years. He doesn’t think it’s illogical at all to want to knock the board aside and kiss Jim…really kiss him, the human way.

“Your move.” Jim reminds him, his tongue darting across his bottom lip for a split second.

Spock nods and looks down at the board. He blinks in surprise when he sees it. The move is so simple…so obvious. Had Jim left the move open on purpose? He lifts his free hand and carefully picks up the piece.

His hand trembles as his hovers the piece over the spot on the board. If he puts it down, he’ll definitely win. He could do the calculation and know exactly what the odds are, but his brain isn’t working at full capacity right now. He glances up to meet Jim’s eyes once more. Jim is already staring back. Spock’s fingers instinctively tighten around Jim’s.

“Spock…do it.” Jim says, his voice low and husky.

It’s then that Spock realizes he’s still holding the piece up above the board. His hand trembles. He knows if he makes the move, the game will be over soon, and he’ll go back to his own quarters. If he doesn’t make the move, then Jim will know he’d thrown the game on purpose.

“Spock…” Jim says again. “Are you gonna do it? Do it…” When Spock takes a heavy breath, Jim starts again. “It’s been three and a half fucking years…make the damn move!” So he does.

The piece slips from between his fingers and clatters onto the board. With one swipe of his arm, he’s knocked the entire board out from in between them. Jim meets him halfway and their mouths finally meet in a hot searing kiss.

His shields are practically gone, so he feels every spark of passion as Jim’s hands claw at Spock’s chest and around his neck, pulling him closer until their bodies are flush together. Spock’s hands find Jim’s shoulders and he pushes him back onto the floor before climbing on top of him.

This time, when the memory fades and they are in darkness, their mind starts to break apart. The components each snap off one by one, leaving six individual voices all bouncing around inside each other’s skulls.

 _“What the fuck…did I just see!?”_ McCoy’s is the first to speak out.

 _“I guess our thing isn’t really a secret anymore, Spock.”_ Jim says, testing his induvial voice to make sure no one else’s voices are tacked on.

 _“Neither is Pavel’s thing for McCoy…”_ Sulu whispers from somewhere in their head.

 _“Hey!”_ Chekov’s thought screams

 _“Shh…”_ Uhura soothes. _“God…my head…”_

 _“Yeah, when the hell can we get up? And when can we stop hearing each other in our heads?”_ Jim tries to move his body, and while he can’t open his eyes, he finds he can move his fingers just slightly.

 _“I believe we will each go back to our own minds within the next few minutes.”_ Spock’s voice comes from somewhere in there. _“Though we may all still feel affected in subtle ways for several days.”_

 _“What kinda subtle ways?”_ Jim asks nervously.

But there’s no answer. He’s alone in his head and body now. He carefully pries his eyes open, but shuts them back when the light of the room is blinding.

“God…” McCoy sits up. “Anyone else feel like they got hit by a fucking truck?”

“I’m gonna puke!” Chekov wines, rolling over onto his side and pulling his flowered cape over himself like a blanket. “Not from any of that in particular, just from the entire situation as a whole…”

Jim opens his eyes again and rolls over to see Spock attempting to stand. He must think the effects wouldn’t hurt his Vulcan physiology as bad as it has everyone else. He greatly misjudges it, and staggers on his feet before falling down onto his knees.

“Okay, now I know I’m gonna die…” Sulu moans, clutching his head.

“God…my head…” Uhura sits up.

“Some honor right?” Jim says to her, unsure if she can even hear him.

“I’m seriously gonna throw up.” Chekov warns.

McCoy reaches out towards the Belkan’s clay pot in the middle of the room and slides it over to him. “Here, kid. Puke in this.” He mumbles, not looking directly at him.

“Thanks…” is Chekov’s tiny reply.

The door opens, and Jim rolls his head over to see two Belkans. He can’t tell if they’re the same ones as before. “Good morning.” They greet in their harmonious voices.

“Morning? What time is it?” Jim finds the effort to sit up now. He looks around at his disheveled crew, half of them with their crowns having fallen off.

“It is morning.” They say simply. “How did you sleep?”

“Very well, thank you.” Spock speaks for the first time. “We were very honored to have dinner with you, but we must leave soon.”

“Of course.” They didn’t sound at all upset. “Follow up and we will take you back out to the gardens where you may return to your ship.”

Spock stands and offers his hand to Jim, tugging him to his feet. One by one, everyone else stands up too. They adjust their capes and crowns before filing out into the hall and down the spiral staircase.

Jim watches Uhura from the corner of his eye. She looks like she wants to say something, and after a second, she does, coming over and lowering her voice. “Hey, Kirk…I just want you to know that that stuff I said about you back then…it was a long time ago.”

“Hey, don’t sweat it.” He says quickly. The way they first met was just something that faded away, something they never talked about as their friendship grew. He hates to think she’s only saying something now because she saw what his childhood was like. “I was an ass when we first met. You had every right to hate me. The point is that it’s different now. I’d lay down my life for you…and I know you’d do the same.” She gives him a smile and a nod before turning back to face the front.

“Here we are…” The Belkans take them through the foyer, past the murals, and into the garden. “You can follow the same path and reach your ship.” The all simultaneously gesture down the path. “And please come back any time, Crew of Starship Enterprise.”

“Thank you.” Jim bows and everyone else follows. “Oh –wait.” He reaches up and tugs off his crown before holding it out to them. “We almost forgot to give these back.”

“Oh, no need.” They all hold up their hands. “These robes were custom made for you as individuals. They are yours to keep.”

“Yes!” Sulu clapped his hands enthusiastically.

“Well, thanks, but I’m not really a flower person.” McCoy tugs off his cape. He looks around for a second before spotting Chekov. He walks over to him and drapes his cape around Chekov’s shoulders, covering the Ensign’s own. “Here, kid, you keep it.” Chekov’s eyes go wide and he exclaims something in Russian that makes Uhura laugh. 

“Jim, I am afraid we stayed longer than we anticipated.” Spock came to stand by him and slipped his hand into Jim’s. “We must return to the ship so I can begin the reports.”

“Yeah, yeah, we’re going…don’t worry your pretty Vulcan head.” Jim waves one last time back at the Belkans, before they all start for the ship.

~o0o~

“You got to do the resting ceremony with them? That’s an honor, you know.” Pike said from the screen in the conference room.

“So I’ve heard.” Jim replied, his chin resting on the table and his eyes barely open. He had no idea Pike would be so interested in how the trip went to the point where he’d call almost as soon as they got back. He just really wanted to go back to sleep and try and forget half of what he saw.

“I’m really looking forward to reading your reports.” Pike said eagerly.

“I will send copies directly to you.” Spock assured him with a nod from his seat next to Jim.

“Thanks, commander. I’ll see you all soon.” A second later and the transmission was over.

Jim leaned back in his chair and stretched before looking around. The five faces of the Belkan away team looked back at him. These were all people he’d known for a long time, but they suddenly all seamed different now. Some things he’d known prior to the meld, but he hadn’t truly understood the gravity until now.

Spock, who was the most beautiful thing in the world to him, was hated his entire childhood for what he was. McCoy, who’s ex-wife took their daughter away. He hated space yet still did his job. Chekov, who was disowned for trying to save his mother’s life and reach his real potential. Sulu, who somehow managed to find something good in the midst of the chaos that was this life…and Uhura, who he reluctantly knew was smarter than him…she was once such a scared child who saved her parent’s lives and listened to her uncle die.

“Captain, perhaps everyone would benefit from a few days of rest.” Spock said, resting a hand on Jim’s knee.

“You’re asking for time off?” McCoy chuckled. “I guess we know who’s rubbing off on who in that relationship.”

“Spock’s right.” Jim stood. “Everyone go get some rest or something…and hey,” Everyone paused in the shuffle of heading for the door. Five pairs of eyes looked his way. “I don’t wanna sound deep or philosophical or anything, but the six of us…we’re connected now…so if we ever need to talk about anything…I think we can all talk to each other anytime, right?”

“Agreed.”

“Agreed.”

“Yeah.”

“Aye, Keptin.”

“Affirmative.”

As everyone filed out into the hallway, Jim listened to the friendly chatter among them. Uhura casually mentioned she was going down to engineering to see Scotty. Sulu said he was gonna call his husband. McCoy insisted a doctor was never off duty, and that he had patients to check up on. Chekov sheepishly asked if he could give him a hand, and after taking a second to think, he agreed.

“Jim, if you are feeling well enough, perhaps we can play a game of chess?” Spock asked.

Jim grinned before clinging to Spock’s arms and replying louder than necessary. “I’d love to play with you, Spock…considering our last game got a little…interrupted.”

“Oh, get a room.” Uhura whispered, and Jim honestly laughed.

The next few days were nice and quiet. Chekov sent Spock the picture he took of the mural of Surak, and Spock geeked out just a tad when he realized he’d be able to send it to his father. A couple of days later there was a briefing before a mission to beam down to a planet with two feuding tribes.

“Do you know who you want on the away team?” Uhura asked him, and Jim grinned.

“I think I know the perfect team.”

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> follow me on tumblr @frappuccinio


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